


What needs to be said

by LORBEERPRINZ



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Gen, I'm late to the party as usual, Post-Canon, stuff that's probably been done hundreds of times lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 09:26:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16851469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LORBEERPRINZ/pseuds/LORBEERPRINZ
Summary: In distant roadside in, Ike sits to rest and meets a woman he had never really imagined to see again. But she is here, determined to talk away what has been occupying her mind and heart for so long.





	What needs to be said

Sitting at a far corner table of a roadside inn, Ike, trying his best to relax from a day of wandering, did not even notice at first the person sitting down opposite to him. He was far more occupied with the reflection of the ceiling in the drink between his hands, which tended to be mysteriously soothing when body and soul were tired. Only when she spoke up, Ike’s eyes moved to face the black-clad lady at his table.  
“Good evening, Sir Ike. It has been quite a while, hasn’t it?”

For a moment, it was hard for Ike to make out who was greeting him there, exhausted eyes trying to focus on the black, flowy dress, dark green waves over her shoulders, solemn face half-hidden from the outside world under the huge brim of a dark hat.  
Vibrantly red eyes.  
She folded her hands into one another while waiting for him to react, kneading them almost uneasily. Ike looked around. How in the world had she gotten here without creating attention? Even if the people in these corners of Tellius might not know who she was, a woman of her class and elegance surely was a rare sight here.  
Somewhere in the back of his head, the blue-haired remembered rumors that she had returned to Goldoa, to aid and support her younger brother who had inherited the country’s throne from their deceased father, the man Ike had fought with his own hands and sword. Goldoa was pretty far away, her journey must have taken her weeks.  
When Ike did not react in words, Daein’s queen dowager continued.

“I have to admit, finding you here was not easy, despite all the rumors. But I am glad to see you’re well.”

Ike let go of his cup, pushing it to the side.  
“What do you want? I don’t think you should be here.”

“You’re probably right”, Lady Almedha replied with a tiny smile that was ever so slightly noticeable, “but you see, there are things that need to be done and said. I won’t steal much of your time, don’t worry. But I came to the conclusion that I need to do this.”  
She reached into a bag she had seemingly brought along under her mantle and pulled out a small, unassuming burlap sack. Sliding the sack across the table, she nodded at Ike, urging him to pick it up. When the mercenary did so, he noticed immediately how heavy it was and while he knew better than to open it in the middle of a tavern full of people, the hard feeling of it had him understand it was filled to the brim with gold.  
Ike raised an eyebrow, looking at the lady opposite to him.

“Money can never make up for another person’s life”, she said almost inaudibly, “but this is the least I can do for you as thanks. I just wanted to thank you for taking care of my son in my stead.”

Ike’s eyes wandered back and forth between the sack and Almedha, trying to find a connection between her words and actions. He agreed with the core of her statement, but had absolutely no idea why she would pay him, then. He pushed the bag away from him slightly, brought it to the center of the table.  
“Well, I only did what I had to. And besides, I think Pelleas was quite able to take ca--”

“--Oh, I’m not talking about Pelleas”, Almedha interrupted, soft voice holding a surprising amount of firmness in its back, “although, please don’t get me wrong. I love him very much. But ultimately… do you know why he gave up the throne…?”

Ike began rummaging through his memories. So many things had happened in the days and weeks after the world had been restored to its former self and Ashera’s judgement had been reversed. But he did remember that Pelleas had resigned and Micaiah had taken up the Daein crown, with Sothe at her side. Now why exactly had Pelleas resigned again…?  
Ah, right, Ike remembered. The boy had fallen victim to Izuka’s schemes against Daein.  
“Pelleas isn’t really Ashnard’s son”, he concluded, “but I’ve always wondered how anyone could actually know.”

Almedha returned to kneading her hands, only for a little until they came to a pause within each other. She sighed a little.  
“It’s very simple: he’s beorc through and through. That mark of his never had anything to do with his heritage.”

Ike sat back a little, reached for his cup again to take a gulp. Things began to make sense, after having found out from Kurthnaga’s tellings of the ongoings on the Daein court some twenty-odd years ago, it had never really occurred to him that Almedha being a part of the dragon tribe’s royal family had to mean her son could not be a regular beorc. But if Pelleas was – and he had never heard anything to the contrary  – she could have impossibly born him.  
He stared at the sack of gold again.  
Who else in the world he knew could be her child…?  
His eyes wandered up to her again, face half hidden under her big hat as she waved away a waitress that that come wanting to take an order. Their looks met afterwards when she returned her gaze to him, deep red eyes glued to him in a way he had seen them a million times before. She had seemed a little too familiar from the very beginning, even though he had not talked to her a lot after everyone had come together to stand against Ashera’s judgement and the power hungry fanatists of Begnion, there was something about her that he had always felt was familiar to him. He had written it off as her relation to Kurthnaga at first, but upon closer inspection she was so different from her younger brother. While the new king of Goldoa was soft-spoken and shy, Almedha’s eyes alone spoke of the strength she surely must have possessed when she had still had her abilities as a laguz, her manners and speech were reserved, yet determined and very refined. This silent determination, he knew it all too well. Just earlier, he had been confronted with this kind of look.  
Ike took a deep breath. The eyes, the hair, the manners. Pelleas had nothing of this, and he was a full-blooded beorc. But her son had to possess dragon laguz blood. He felt like a fool for not having noticed it before.

 

“ _ You’re _ Soren’s mother”, he whispered.

Almedha responded with silence, pressed her fingernails into the palms of her hands until the skin turned slightly white.

 

“Please”, she began after a short while, looking up again, just for a brief moment until she avoided Ike’s gaze, “don’t blame him for the foolish decisions I made. This is my sin to bear.”  
Ike took another big gulp of his drink, unsure how to reply. What exactly was there to say in a situation like this? Images flashed through his mind, memories of the day a few years ago, where he had taken Soren to the side to find out what had bothered his friend for so long, only to witness him collapsing under the pressure of fear, a false assumption of being pushed away that long years of loneliness had infested his mind with.  
Almedha’s look was very similar now. She was ashamed, fearful of rejection – not of herself, but her son. She knew very well what stigma was attached to the Branded, and how hard it was even now, in an era of coming together between beorc and laguz, for many people to let go of old superstitions. During their wanderings together in the past months, Ike and Soren had to face the hard reality that there was a still a long way to go and if anything, the potential of Branded children becoming more commonplace from now on just made certain people more aware of them.  
And whenever they were confronted with this, Soren would briefly return to a behavior similar to his mother’s now, saying nothing, staying as upright as possible but clearly looking like he’d want to apologize for his mere existence causing trouble. So far, Ike had always managed to snap him out of this quickly enough.

“I’ve known for a while what he is”, Ike finally said, “and I don’t care. Never did. Soren is Soren, that’s all what’s important.”  
He rearranged himself on the tavern bench as all of the new information began to settle within him, watching how Almedha slightly released the pressure on her hands and her lips formed a little smile as she sighed.  
“I see… My apologies for ever so slightly doubting the man who united laguz and beorc under one banner.” Her smile vanished. “However, you’re aware what this also means, I assume? Not only is he a Branded, he is also…”  
“...Ashnard’s son”, the blue-haired completed her sentence. This was the hardest truth about all of this for sure and Ike was uncertain how to feel about it. It was almost impossible for him to believe that someone like Soren was related to a tyrannic monster of a person, a man who had cared for nothing and nobody but himself and his lust for power. His mind began looking for similarities between the two men, until he stopped himself from doing so. He knew that if he did and indeed found something, he might end up with remorse towards Ashnard’s death. This should never happen.

“So Soren was the child Ashnard used to lure in and enslave your brother…”  
Almedha nodded and took a deep breath. She stared at her hands, began kneading them once again and in doing so, she suddenly looked way more fragile to Ike than he had thought she was. A proud, elegant front hiding already broken shards scattered all about, shards she tried to pick up and reassemble, hurting her hands to bleed with every tiny one she touched. Like with Soren, it was hard for Ike to tell whether she cared about the pain or not. At the very least, she was determined to endure it for as long as possible.  
But everyone had a breaking point. Ike had already seen Soren’s.

“I was foolish… it never came to my mind that he wanted nothing more than another chess piece for his game. Neither did I know what would happen to a child coming from the unison of laguz and beorc. I knew it was frowned upon, of course, but my father’s decree of isolation meant we had not seen a Branded in Goldoa at all, I couldn’t tell what would happen, and, frankly, I did not care. I loved him, back then, was happy to bear him a son. Soren was so beautiful…  
But after a short while of infatuation, Ashnard... my husband... he thought there was something wrong with his son. You see, newborn laguz have no control over their shifting – a hiccup, a sneeze, bad mood, anything can set the transformation into motion. Needless to say, my baby never showed signs of doing this. I urged him to be patient, nobody knew how a child with mixed blood of beorc and dragon origins would develop. But he did not want to be patient and his anger over his ‘weak’ son grew with each day. Eventually, I don’t know where, he found out that Branded children are unable to shift at all, that they hold no power greater than an ordinary beorc. He was furious.”

Lady Almedha stopped for a moment, swallowed. Had Ike any water, he would offer it to her, but the half-finished beer to his side seemed rather inappropriate. Instead, he took a sip of it himself, pressing his eyes afterwards as if that would make the images his mind came up with upon hearing her story stop from appearing.

“He blamed me for the situation, for his weak child, accused me of deceiving him. He began telling the court his baby had been so weak it had died. And he was trying to make this become a reality, wanted to take him from me. In the end, I took the child and locked myself in my chambers, the only way I saw I could protect the boy from Ashnard’s wrath. He must have been amused by this, somehow, as he let me hold out for almost a week, I think. I’m not sure about how much time passed exactly, it’s all such a blur in my mind now. Had I still been able to, I swear I would have torn everything apart right there and then.  
When it became unbearable, when I was almost at the breaking point and had run out of ways to sustain both myself and my beloved son, my brother Rajaion arrived. His argument with Ashnard was fierce, but somehow, he managed to convince my husband to spare our baby’s life. What I didn’t know at this point was that he had practically exchanged his own life for that of his nephew. Regardless of this, Ashnard claimed he couldn’t stand the sight of such a weakling, couldn’t bear the thought this child was part of his lineage and had Soren taken away from me. I was starved and weak and couldn’t fight back anymore. The last thing I saw of him was how he was pushed into the arms of a random maid whose name I didn’t even know, who immediately realised what was going on and protested against having to take this child. She didn’t say it, but I think she instinctively knew he was a Branded. I cried. Soren cried. It was chaos all around and the next thing I remember, he was gone.”

Silence fell between Almedha and Ike like a thick, heavy veil, one Ike felt powerless to lift. The queen dowager once again hid her face under the brim of her hat, but the mercenary was almost sure she was crying. The light movements of her shoulders gave her away. He was at a loss for words.  
“My little boy did not even have a name”, she suddenly blurted out almost inaudibly.  
“If a child is born to the current ruler of Daein… by tradition it is his privilege to name it. That name would be revealed the same time the child is first presented to the public. It never came to this…”

Ike swallowed. Hearing this story was hard to stomach as it was already, but he also knew what had followed for Soren, remembered the painful recountings of the life he had had growing up. In the night following Soren’s confession, it had been hard for Ike to find sleep, his mind had produced way too many horrific images. Knowing now how it had all come to that did not make things better at all, and he wondered who to blame. No, he quickly corrected himself, he knew exactly who to blame.  
But even then, even after seeing her struggles, the pain it had brought her to recall these memories, he couldn’t quite think of her as entirely innocent. There was something he had to ask, knowing he would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn’t take the chance now.

 

“Why did you never go look for him?”

 

The Goldoan princess dropped her head, now completely obscured by her black brim.  
“I couldn’t. I was stricken with grief and horror, I wasn’t able to leave my chambers for years. I didn’t want to leave them, this is the place I spent the last time I was able to hold him in my arms. I was weak…”

Once again, silence fell across the table, the usual background noises of a busy tavern were nothing more than a hum. Ike sighed.  
“And because of that”, he said, trying to let as little judgement slip into his voice as possible, “he was handed around like an object, and treated that way. If you knew what ordeals a child like him would face, what superstitions both beorc and laguz can have against them, I guess you can imagine how his life went afterwards, how he was--”  
Ike stopped himself, took a deep breath. He’d told himself he didn’t want to go down that road. And besides, it was not his place to pass on the story of Soren’s past, it was for the mage alone to decide. The mercenary remembered how ashamed he had been to tell Ike of his nature, how agonizing it had been to lay out the details of his childhood to him. All the tears that had followed. But there was something he wanted Soren’s mother to understand.

“He almost died.”

The queen dowager’s eyes widened, just for a moment as she straightened her posture while taking a sharp breath. A second later, her shoulders sunk again, lips trembling as she returned to her hiding place under the hat. Her hands started kneading each other again. Ike wasn’t sure, but he thought he’d seen a little bit of blood. As the noises of the tavern rose into consciousness again, the drowned out Almedha’s whispers almost entirely.  
“I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t apologize to me”, Ike responded, “talk to him.”

The Goldoan princess shook her head.  
“I can’t. He’s been fighting Daein for years by your side, what do you think would happen if he knew about his father? Tellius finally found peace and he had his part in reaching it, I want him to keep it, to leave his life the way it is. I want him to be happy… So please, Sir Ike, don’t tell him about this meeting of ours.”  
Ike took another small sip from his cup, nodding lightly. He agreed, in a way, but at the same time, there was a part inside of him that wanted Soren to know at least about his mother. He remembered bits and pieces of his own mother, Elena, her love and warmth, the happy days of his childhood. A lot of memories were still blurry, but they were coming back bit by bit. When he had heard about Soren’s plight, the loneliness he had gone through during his early years, he had almost felt ashamed for his own childhood of protection and love. However, he also understood her reasoning, in a way. Nobody could really tell how Soren might react.  
Ike took another sip.

When he looked up again, it became clear that he didn’t have to consider all these questions anymore.  
He gulped.

“Soren!”

 

Almedha flew around to face the mage who had managed to slip behind the two of them undetected. He was always good at that, appearing and disappearing almost as silently as the wind.  
She said nothing, her shoulders trembling slightly as she watched Soren approach. The mage stared at her, then his eyes began wandering back and forth between the woman and Ike. Nobody dared to speak up.  
Almedha’s hands twitched. She wiped one of them rather ungraciously on her mantle, was ready to reach for her son, but in the end, she didn’t.

“For how long have you been here?”, Ike finally asked.

Soren looked at him, then back at Almedha, stony expression never changing.  
“Long enough to have heard basically everything, I suppose. But all it did was confirm some assumptions I’ve already had for quite a while. I heard nothing entirely new.”  
He got into motion again, taking an agonizingly slow walk around the table until he finally joined Ike on the bench, solemnly folding his hands over the wood. He never took his gaze off the two already sitting there and by the time he sat down, his eyes were fixed on his mother.  
“Wait…”, Ike concluded, “you’re saying you already knew all of this?”  
Almedha’s brows furrowed.

Soren wetted his lips slightly, his eyes began to jump around the place quickly, then settled on his own hands before him. After a moment of pause, he looked up again, but it appeared to Ike as if he wasn’t actually meeting his mother’s gaze anymore. He stiffened.  
“It wasn’t all that hard to find out, really. The only thing I never fully had was confirmation of what I had been thinking about for a while, but it seems like the time of uncertainty is over now. I knew for quite some time that Pelleas is not your son, that he’s nothing more but a Spirit Charmer. He told me so himself, although at that time I didn’t really pay much attention to this piece of information. When we heard from Prince – no, King – Kurthnaga that you’re a member of Goldoa’s royal family, it was clear Pelleas couldn’t be your child by birth.  
Unless Ashnard had another mistress, the child you produced with him has to be Branded, there is no other possibility. It was known for sure that he had a son, so Micaiah was out of the picture. Stefan seems to be too old, as does Zelgius, possibly. Of course, it could have been someone none of us had ever met before, or that the boy was already dead, but…  
...it’s not like I have never seen my own reflection. I have spent enough time in the same group as your brother to have gotten a good look at him, I have seen you. You approached me after we all had returned from the Tower of Guidance. Why would a Goldoan princess and Ashnard’s widow want to talk to me and ask for my name if there was no sort of connection between us? In the end, it was just a process of putting all the clues together.”

The mage stopped, looked at Ike’s cup, maybe checking for water, but when he saw it was beer, one of the few Ike ever allowed himself on rare occasions, he gave up.  
Almedha sighed and showed a weak, but definite smile, the first time Ike saw that kind of expression on her. It fit her well.  
“Just as expected from the master tactician that brought countless victories to Crimea and the Laguz Alliance…”  
“Why have you never told me any of this?”, Ike asked after another while of uncomfortable silence on the table. Soren’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile as he slid a little closer to Ike on the bench until his tiny shoulder touched Ike’s arm.  
“Can you imagine what would have happened if I had?”, he asked, voice full of poison towards himself, “I am the son of the man that brought so much misery over the entire continent, who we risked everything we had trying to stop, whose actions, in one way or another, almost doomed every living being on Tellius. Think about what would have happened to your reputation, Ike, nobody would have accepted plans and orders from someone related to the enemy, and a commander who’d willingly employ such a person. You wanted to bring down Ashnard personally, you were horrified by his actions. What would you have thought of me if you’d known who I am…?”

Ike sighed. It was a terrible situation. He knew it wasn’t only that, he knew that no matter how much he had fought himself against prejudice within the armies he’d lead, there would always be a few soldiers in the back rows that’d be set in their own ways, that continued to slur at the laguz around them and would have not been happy to see a Branded in a high position. This, partially, was why Ike had promised Soren to keep up with his disguise as a beorc spirit charmer.  
He also understood that this wasn’t even the end of it, that the reveal that Soren was related to Ashnard would have gone over with the army even worse. Had it not been for his position, it might have not been so bad after all, who knew, but Soren was right, would the soldiers still have trusted him and his plans had they known? Ike didn’t want to admit this, wished that it would have never been a problem, but he also knew that he had no way of really telling.  
He hated that it had to be this way.

“Even if you accepted me as a Branded”, Soren continued, struggling to keep his voice firm, “I didn’t believe you would have ever kept me around knowing I’m Ashnard’s child...”  
Ike slightly pushed to the side, shook Soren’s shoulder just a bit. He wanted to wake him from this self-dooming path he was witnessing him entering again. He thought about taking his friend’s hand, but it didn’t seem like the right time. No matter how hardened he usually appeared, Soren always looked incredibly fragile in situations like those, and Ike knew he didn’t want anyone else to see this.  
“Nonsense”, he said instead, “as if I’d have ever blamed you for what Ashnard did. Children are never responsible for the terrible things their parents do.”  
He looked up, at Almedha, who watched the scene before her and, in a similar way to her son, struggled to keep her posture. He cleared his throat quickly.  
“Or rather, their fathers, in this case. Sorry, I didn’t want to imply--”

The lady cut him off with a shake of her head.   
“No, you’re right. I am at fault as well, I have no place to not be blamed. Hate me all you like, Soren, all I wanted was to make sure you’re alright. I have seen you are, I have seen that someone cares for you better than I ever could, this is all I need. I won’t bother you two with my presence anymore now.”

“Convenient”, Soren replied, slowly catching himself again, “because I have nothing really left to say to you.”  
“I understand.”

She rose, as did the two men, following general etiquette. She took a step forward still, looked at her son.  
“Please answer me one more thing”, she pleaded, struggling to keep herself from approaching him further, “who gave you your name?”

Soren sighed lightly, hesitated to answer. After a little while of silence, Almedha turned and was about to leave. When she was a few steps away already, the mage to Ike’s side suddenly spoke up.  
“There were some priests I lived with for a while”, he said, causing Almedha to stop in her tracks, “they came up with it. From what I can tell they just threw together syllables I was able to pronounce easily or something like that.”  
Ike froze at the implications. He remembered Soren telling him for how long he had been unable to speak, to communicate with anyone outside of spells, but he had not expected his friend to have gone nameless, devoid of identity, for so long. So the hesitation the boy had had during their first meeting so many years ago to tell Ike his name had not only been because he had been unable to voice it – although that had probably been the biggest issue – but also because he did not have anything to reply.  
“You went nameless for that long…?”, he asked, trying to confirm if he had heard correctly. Almedha, too, stared in confusion and horror. Soren just shrugged.  
“Well, the only thing people called me before were things like ‘half-breed’, ‘bastard’ and the like. And those were some of the nicer ones, actually.”  
The mage groaned a little at the realization what he had just revealed, drew his arms up to his chest and retreating a few steps as Almedha began to move forward again. She held out a hand, was finally ready to reach for her son, but he wouldn’t let it happen, almost sliding back behind Ike, who, not contempt with the display before him, decided to not give him cover this time. They should come together just for a brief moment, this was all he wanted. He wanted Soren to understand what a mother’s love felt like, if only briefly.  
Almedha, however, drew her hand back again, settling for a little smile instead.

“It might be just a coincidence”, she started, “but I do know some of the old language. And in that, there is a phrase very similar to ‘Soren’, and it can mean something along the lines of ‘blessed by love’.”  
“How ironic”, the mage commented.  
Ike lightly bumped Soren’s shoulder once again, his mind trying to find out if he recognized any of the syllables and their supposed translations in the bits and pieces he knew about the old language.  
“I like it”, he said, shooting his friend a smile.  
He earned a sigh.

“I do too”, Almedha chimed in, “and I think it suits you very well. I couldn’t have thought of a better one myself.”  
When Soren just shook his head, she reached into her pouch once more, pulling out a scroll that she handed her son. He hesitated to take it, but when Ike nudged him again, he did. He opened the scroll and Ike joined him in looking over it, just briefly for now, but the seal of Goldoa and King Kurthnaga signing it personally made it look very official and important. Swiftly, Ike picked up a few words about unlimited passage and a description of a person that was very obviously meant to be Soren.  
Right… it hadn’t really come to Ike all that much yet, but technically, he realized, Soren was a Goldoan prince.  
Did this verify his status, maybe?  
Ike found that he was listed in this document as well, for some reason. Reading on, it turned out that this scroll gave Soren unlimited passage through and within Goldoa’s borders, as well as unquestioned entrance to its capital and palace.  
The mage finished reading, rose an eyebrow and looked at his mother.

  
“I know you’re strong”, she started softly, “so incredibly strong. But… everyone needs to rest from time to time, and whenever you’re feeling down, when you’re lonely…”  
She stopped herself, eyes briefly wandering over to Ike before returning to her son. Soren sighed. He understood. Ike understood.  
He was a regular beorc after all, and one day they would have to say goodbye to each other. Hopefully, it would take many, many years until that day came.

“Of course”, the Goldoan princess continued, looking at Ike again, trying to mask her own torrent of emotions with a smile as much as possible, “this goes for you as well, Sir Ike. Everyone will welcome the two of you with open arms.”  
Ike thought he heard Soren groan ever so slightly, but the noises around them seemed to drown it out so much that he couldn’t be really sure. The mage’s mouth curled into a frown as he kneaded the parchment of the scroll under his thumb. He studied it again without considering his mother’s comments until he finally rolled it back together. At first, it looked to Ike like he was about to hand it back to Almedha, but in the end, he kept it. 

For a moment, it seemed like another tear sparkled in his mother’s eye. She smiled, hand raising once again, this time not hesitating anymore. She touched Soren’s face ever so lightly, the mage stiffening and trying to retreat for another bit almost instantly. She went through some strands of his hair, just for a little moment until she stopped, smile now a little more contempt.  
“Yes”, she whispered, “you’re strong. Thank you for being so strong, for being who you are…”  
Soren exchanged no more words with his mother as she nodded, ever so slightly bowing, and said her goodbye.

The two men watched her leave, wordlessly, as she didn’t turn around anymore, pulling her cloak closer to herself, brim deeper into her face. Heading towards the exit, she disappeared into the busy crowd of the tavern.  
When they couldn’t see her anymore, Soren sighed and tossed the scroll onto the table. Ike raised an eyebrow, looking at his friend as he sunk onto the bench next to him and returned the gaze. The mercenary picked the paper up again, examined it more closely. He had been wondering why the scroll had only been sealed with a very small version of Goldoa’s royal seal, but seeing it now, he noticed how the paper had the seal embossed into it all over. It was faint, but definitely there, probably a way of making sure official documents were not faked.  
“Why didn’t you give it back to her?”, Ike asked the mage, “You’re not going to go back there, are you?”  
Soren shrugged.  
“It could come in handy some time. Though I’ll throw it away… one day. I don’t really need this for myself.”

Ike debated whether he should encourage Soren to visit his mother and uncle in Goldoa at least at some point in time. He deserved a mother, relatives, a loving family. And it seemed they wanted to love him, too. The more he was thinking about it, however, he begun to understand Soren’s hesitation. If he was in a situation like him, he’d surely not run after his suddenly returned mother either. He gave the mage a pat on the shoulder.  
His hand lingered on Soren’s shoulder for a moment, and his friend lay one of his over it, squeezing it just lightly.  
“I have no business in Goldoa on my own”, Soren stressed, “And besides… Being with a mother I never asked for would be quite inappropriate when you… lost the one you loved…”

Trying to find something to reply, Ike’s eyes wandered around the tavern again and fell on the burlap sack full of gold that was still resting on the table next to his beer.  
He grabbed it and rushed outside.

 

It seemed like Almedha had already left, unknown to Ike how she could disappeared so quickly, until he noticed the carriage a few feet away. It stood aside the tavern, hidden in the shadows of the night to draw as little attention as possible, and it was barely possible to make out the frames of Daein’s queen dowager and what probably was a coacher.  
Ike hurried towards them, holding out the small sack.  
“You forgot this!”  
“I told you, Sir Ike, its--”

“No”, he interrupted her, “as I said, I only ever did what I had to. And, honestly, I think I am the one who has to thank you. For giving life to such an amazing person.”  
She laughed shortly, her smile made visible by the small lantern at the side of her coach the coacher had just turned on. Once again, she lightly pushed the gold back at Ike, looking at him, not in sadness or pain this time, but with bright, sparkling eyes. They were so much like her son’s.  
“I think we’re feeling quite similar here”, she said, “He truly is amazing. We might both love him, but I also think he deserves someone who worked hard on making sure he’s alright much more than a mother that failed to do so for years. If you don’t want this gold yourself, just take it to make sure he will always have everything he needs. He’s important to both of us.”  
Ike let the sachet roll around in his hands, weighing his options. She had a point, somehow, it was not a bad idea.

Ike watched the coach depart, waved shortly before it disappeared into the darkness and he returned to the tavern. Before entering, he made sure to hide away the money, deciding he would only make use of it when they were in really dire straits.  
He was sure, if there was anything that Soren wanted, it was that things would keep going on the same way they always had.

 

He joined Soren back in the tavern, where he had patiently been waiting for him, and together they left for their room to rest for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeesh. I'm pretty sure this has been done to death already but I'm late to the party as usual lol


End file.
